


Itching

by Illneverbethin



Category: Original Work
Genre: Animal Death, Intrusive Thoughts, POV First Person, Self-Harm, She regrets everything, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence, Violent Thoughts, author regrets everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:02:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26030848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illneverbethin/pseuds/Illneverbethin
Summary: Do you ever pick up a knife and think to yourself, ‘I could kill someone right now’ ?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Itching

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Character, Nicole Briar, telling the story.

Do you ever just pick up a knife and think to yourself, ‘I could kill someone right now’ ?

Well, obviously not if you’re a _normal_ person. 

But, thing here is that I’m **not** normal. I’ve been having these thoughts ever since I was a kid.   
  
When I was twelve or eleven, I started having theses urges. Like voices in my head telling me to hurt people. Then, I would turn back to my senses and shut it down immediately.

I was that type of kid who couldn’t even hurt a fly. Hell, I sobbed while watching the family dog get put down.

But however, I would just keep _itching_ to act on these thoughts.

It ranged from suffocating a family member in their sleep, poisoning a friend, and even strangling small animals.

I started distancing myself from everyone I knew because I didn’t want to hurt them.   
  
At age fourteen, the urges stopped. Only for a short time. And my idiotic child brain thought I was actually normal.

I started taking care of a stray kitten. Everyday after school, I brought food to her.

Sometimes, I wouldn’t finish my lunch so that she could eat.   
  
One fine spring day, I wanted to play with her. I walked to part of town where she usually was. I found her in an alleyway.

She brushed against my legs. I picked her up.

That’s when the urge came back. But this time, I acted on it.

I slowly raised her above my head. And threw the cat a against the ground. She was twitching. Her white fur was stained red. But I didn’t stop.

I kicked her in the face. Blood ran out of her mouth. I stomped on her. I crushed her bones. I stepped on her skull.

When I heard a sickening crunching, I finally stopped and snapped back to my senses.

There lay the kitten that I had been taking care of for weeks. 

I dropped to my knees and cried. I couldn’t believe I had done something so horrible.

Later that night, I went to the bathroom and took apart a razor. I used the blade to carve the word ‘Monster’ into my left thigh because it’s what I am. 

Ever since that day, I thought about ending those urges for good. 

All those ways I thought of killing my close acquaintances, I thought of killing myself.

I don’t deserve to be left alive. What’s there to live for? I won’t ever be forgiven.

All I want for myself, and everyone else’s safety, is to die **a slow, painful death.**

**Author's Note:**

> I almost cried when I wrote the scene with the kitten.


End file.
